


winter is endless without you

by gentlevendetta



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ash Lynx and Okumura Eiji Go to Japan, Banana Fish Anime Spoilers, Banana Fish Ending Fix-It, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Okumura Eiji Needs a Hug, Post-Canon Banana Fish, Shooting, Sing is always kicking stuff, i read garden of light and decided to ignore it, it serves as a vent-piece for my own feelings, it's that short-man syndrome, this follows the end of the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlevendetta/pseuds/gentlevendetta
Summary: Eiji is struggling to cope with Ash's death, even months later. When Sing proposes he visit New York for closure, he agrees. The ghost of Ash Lynx turns out to be far more corporeal than Eiji can fathom....Or, I watched the entirety of Banana Fish in one sitting, had my heart ripped out, and decided I couldn't handle the canon ending.
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Okumura Eiji, Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 3
Kudos: 84





	winter is endless without you

Eiji spends the fourteen hours home thinking of Ash Lynx. A small part of him shrivels up with each passing hour, the hope he had held out dying as the plane hovers in the sky. 

It’s almost mocking how the clouds shift and part around them, lazing by as he looks out the window, the ground flat and dull beneath them.

He sighs, tilting his head back until it knocks against the back of his seat. Ibe-san is quiet beside him, except for the soft snores that disrupt the air every few seconds. 

Eiji closes his eyes, met with the sharp fleck of green eyes and silky platinum hair playing across the back of his lids like a film. He sucks in a pained breath, shaking his head. Ash had made his decision. His silence said more than any words could.

Eiji can’t say it didn’t hurt, boarding the plane with soft hope, only for it to harden to a sinking weight as the plane took off. He half expected to look out his window and see Ash standing in the runway, hellbent on some final moment, Ash Lynx style.

But the plane took off without even a hint of blond glinting in the sun. Eiji had looked.

The sun is long past now, resting as he should be. Yet Eiji is unable to fathom more than this tortured moment of closing his eyes to the onslaught of memories.

He should be remembering ringing gunshots or flashing blades or the river of blood that has been spilt across the New York streets. His mind only conjures up soft smiles and friendly banter and the pain in Ash’s voice when Eiji had been shot.

His fingers twitch, lifting on instinct to press gently against the still-tender wound at his stomach.

He tilts his head, sighing in contentment when his cheek lands against the cool relief of the window.

_ ‘Sa-yo-na-ra.’ _

The ghost of that voice rips through him and he feels like he’s been shot against, heat flaring through his stomach in a flash that leaves him gasping. It’s more shock than pain. He curls his hand into his sweater tighter, fighting against the wave of emotion, reaching up with his free hand to clutch his head.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

Eiji is startled out of his mind by the timid whisper of a flight attendant. 

He looks up with a sheepish smile, blinking up at her. “Yes, thank you.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him, but continues down the aisle after assuring him she’ll be nearby if he needs anything.

Eiji turns into the window after that, resolved to suffer his memories in relative peace.

The rest of the hours' crawl by and Eiji is never able to silence his thoughts long enough to sleep. Ibe-san seems to realise that when he wakes up at the end of the flight, mouth curling down into a worried frown.

“Ei-chan, were you unable to sleep?”

Eiji flashes a weak smile before turning to hide his expression. “I got a few hours in. I woke up just before you.”

Ibe-san accepts the answer with a hum, leaving Eiji to watch the newly-glowing horizon as they begin their descent.

By the time they get off the plane and through the airport the sky has turned rosy-gold, bruise-blush gilded. 

Eiji’s only thought is that Ash should be here to see it as well.

…

“Eiji? Did you hear me?”

Eiji blinks down at the phone in his hand, Sing’s voice sounding through the speaker as if through water. Or maybe Eiji is the one in water. That would explain why he feels like he’s drowning, choking on air.

He knows, distantly, that the soft clattering noise is his phone hitting the ground.

He blinks, “Ash.”

Sing is speaking from the floor, worry evident in his tone, but Eiji can’t bring himself to pick up the phone and reassure him.

_ ‘Eiji, it’s Sing. Sing Soo-Ling.’ _

Eiji had laughed lightly.  _ ‘I remember! It hasn’t been that long, Sing. Are-’ _

Sing had cut him off, a breathless-panic in his voice.  _ ‘Eiji! Ash was stabbed.’ _

The phone had felt too heavy in his hand, his body weightless. He was seconds from floating out of his body, tethered weakly to the earth by the rectangle of metal in his hand.

_ ‘Eiji, did you hear me?’ _

Did you hear me? Did you hear me, did you hear me, hear me, hear me.

Eiji’s knees hit the floor alongside his abandoned phone. Surely he’s ceased to exist for this specific moment. He’s all too hot and cold, floating and sinking and spiralling. His lungs heave in his chest, air rattling between his ribs as his heart stills, a momentary lapse.

And just as he ceased to exist for a moment, his existence comes crashing back into him like a tidal wave. A hurricane. A natural disaster of pain and aching.

Are the gods weeping with him? There’s a howling wind ripping through the room, an agonising cry of loss. 

Eiji blinks through his tears and realises that, no, the gods are not sharing his grief. The screaming is ripping through his own throat, sharp and hot. 

He curls forward, trying to contain the noise inside himself, trapping his mouth behind his hands as his tongue forms endlessly around the name of his dearest friend.

A muted shout barks through the speaker of his phone and Eiji turns to stare at it blankly.

“Eiji? Eiji! Damnit! Eiji, are you there?”

Sing’s voice is rising, desperate.

Eiji lifts the phone to his ear again, but his mouth refuses to move. Sing must hear his broken attempt at breathing.

“Eiji? Can you hear me? I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t. I never thought he would…”

Eiji isn’t sure what he’s apologising for. He goes to ask, but a whimper sticks in his throat, wet around the edges from his tears.

“Ash…”

Sing stops apologising when he hears the whisper. “He was at the library.” He clears his throat. “Found him with your letter. Looked like he was taking a nap. He. He looked happy.”

Eiji shakes his head. “No.”

“We tried getting him to the hospital.”

“No.”

“He flatlined on the way, apparently.”

“No!”

Sing goes silent. “I’m sorry, Eiji.”

The initial wave has receded slightly, leaving an empty low-tide shore of numbness. “Ash wouldn’t just die. No. He’s had worse. You’re wrong.”

“It was Lao.”

Eiji falters, stunned. Sing’s profuse apologies made a bit more sense, now. 

“He wanted to visit Japan with me. I was teaching him Japanese.”

There’s shuffling on the other end, voices rising and falling over one another before a deep baritone rumbles into the speaker at Eiji’s ear.

“Eiji, it’s Cain. I didn’t know Ash like you did. I don’t think anyone did. But I know he’d kick your ass for doing anything other than living your life. Stay in Japan and save yourself.”

Eiji ends the call.

…

His younger sister bounces around him with enthusiasm, completely unaware of the shadows across his face. His mom is not so unobservant. She watches him as he unpacks, watches him as he picks at his food, a question hiding in her eyes. She’s probably forming some theory about the corrupting properties of America, complete with an ‘I knew it’ speech. 

By the next week her gloating turns to concern, etched into her features like a carved statue.

Eiji does his best to act normal, feeling all the while like a part of himself has been ripped out. A gaping wound that he’s doing nothing to heal.

Ibe-san visits during his second week back and his eyes clearly show he’s spoken with Eiji’s mom. 

Eiji plasters on a fake smile and weaves a lie about missing New York and adjusting from travels. When Ibe-san raises a brow, unbelieving, he manages to choke out Ash’s name.

The longing must be thick in that one name, because Ibe-san nods, face clearing. He claps a warm hand on Eiji’s shoulder.

“I know you two grew close, Ei-chan, but don’t worry! You’ll see each other in the future.”

Eiji almost crumbles at that sentence, a harsh reminder.

When Ibe-san leaves, Eiji crawls up onto the roof of his house to stare at the sky. The dark is a good cover for the tears tracking down his face, both for anyone who could see him and for himself. With the sky one solid block of ink, he can pretend his vision isn’t blurred.

…

“Oniichan? Why are you sad?”

Eiji looks up from the book he wasn’t reading to stare at his sister.

“Why would you think I’m sad?”

Her mouth presses into an unimpressed line. “I know you call me an airhead behind my back, but I’m not that stupid!”

He breathes out a laugh, running a finger over the edges of the book as he turns to look out the window. Their small garden looks barren and he realises numbly that winter must be taking hold of it.

“I miss a friend of mine.”

“Then call them!”

Eiji’s mouth ticks up at the corner for a second, rueful. “I can’t. He wouldn’t pick up.”

She tilts her head and a lock of her short black hair sweeps down across her face before she hums. “Oh! Time zones, right! I forgot about those. That sucks, oniichan, I’m sorry.”

Eiji flips a page, not bothering to focus on the kanji. “Yeah. Time zones. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

She grins at him, unknowing, and drags a pillow over to sit by him and ramble about a boy from her grade that she’s infatuated with. Eiji can hardly focus on what she’s saying, but he smiles at her softly, appreciating the company.

…

“This has gone on long enough, Ei-chan. I’m putting my foot down.”

Eiji blinks at Ibe-san slowly. “What?”

Ibe-san tips forward, “It’s been over a month. I thought the trip had helped, but now you’re worse than when we left.”

Eiji tilts his head, distracted momentarily by the fringe of curls that drop into his eyes with the action. Has his hair gotten that long? 

“I’m just adjusting, Ibe-san.”

“You said that a month ago.”

“Ash is dead.”

Ibe-san opens his mouth, tangent dying at the tip of his tongue as he registers what Eiji said. 

“Ash Lynx?”

Eiji blinks hallowly before nodding. “Sing’s brother stabbed him around the time we were preparing to board our flight. He bled out and died while I was in the air, completely unaware.”

Ibe-san reels back, mouth open. “Ash Lynx can’t be killed.”

Eiji finds himself smiling bitterly. “That’s what I said.”

Ibe-san’s hand flutters in the air above his shoulder, unsure, and Eiji breaks, folding in on himself to shatter.

Eiji is pulled into a tight embrace as sobs rip through his chest like gunshots. He presses his forehead into the soft of Ibe-san’s sweater, fisting his fingers in the fabric in an attempt to ground himself.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, curled into one another, but his eyes eventually run out of their well of tears and his throat spasms from the intensity of his near-wailing cries.

“I cared about him Ibe-san.”

“I know.” His tone is soft.

“No. I. A lot.”

Ibe-san pats his curls down in a soothing manner. “I know.” His tone has turned even softer.

Eiji pulls back, eyes focused on his lap as he jerks his head in a frantic attempt to express himself. “No, Ibe-san. I mean a lot. Ash has my soul.”

Ibe-san looks to the side, a crease appearing between his brows. “Well.” He doesn’t speak for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “I think you also had his.”

…

Unfortunately, Ibe-san clues his mother and sister in on Ash’s death. So he has three pairs of watchful eyes on him at all times, full of pity.

The pity cuts deeper than he knew it was capable of. It makes him feel weak.

It sends him into a quick spiral of yawning darkness, an empty space where he either feels everything at once or nothing at all. 

When the pity turns to panic it sharpens the blade that cuts into him.

Maybe that’s why he accepts so easily when Sing calls.

“Come visit, Eiji. It’s been near eight months.”

Eiji has to check his calendar to confirm. When had the time passed him by?

“Okay.”

Sing musters up enthusiasm for his acceptance, going on about all the guys who will be happy to see him again.

Eiji is hardly listening, mind swirling around all the places New York offers that will bring nothing but pain. The Public Library. Coney Island. Chinatown. Every back alley and hideout.

Yet the prospect of pain is not enough to deter him, not when the promise of the city Ash loved so much, Ash’s city, lingers before him. He’ll endure it all for Ash. Just like Ash always did for him.

It’s easier convincing his mother than he expects. She easily agrees that he needs a change of scenery and a sense of closure. 

Eiji is most surprised that Ibe-san doesn’t demand to go with him.

“You’re growing up, Ei-chan, whether I like it or not. I’ve coddled you long enough.”

Three weeks later Eiji boards a flight that will lead him to America, to New York. To the memory of Ash.

…

Eiji knew Ash’s ghost would be all over New York, as present as the graffiti and rats, but when he sees Ash Lynx across the street at a cafe, laughing across from an older man he stops breathing.

A taxi zips by, and with the streak of yellow comes clarity. The woman across the street is not Ash Lynx. She has his short blonde hair, flowing and shiny, but she’s far too short to by Ash, and her eyes are a dark brown. 

Eiji scoffs at himself, “Get it together.”

He powers on down the street, focusing on the ground as much as he can to avoid seeing Ash around every corner. That doesn’t stop him from hearing his laugh unfurling from an open shop door. From smelling the very specific gunpowder and shampoo scent Ash had on him, like smoke and lemons. Ash exists here whether he likes it or not.

Oddly enough, the only place he seems to find himself free of Ash is the new hideout Sing gave him the address to. It’s nicer than the places they used to reside in, the walls aren’t tinted yellow or grey, the furniture only looks a few years old, and there aren’t bullet holes riddling every surface. 

Eiji thinks idly that Ash would have been proud to see it.

“Eiji!”

He huffs out a startled breathe when a flash of dull pink crashes into him, lanky arms lopping around his neck as a less than toothy smile beams at him.

Eiji chokes out a laugh, a bittersweet emotion blossoming in his chest. “Bones.”

Kong comes up behind the scrawny man clinging to him, lifting him by his collar like a kitten. “That’s enough outta you. Eiji just got here, let him breathe.”

Eiji pulls his lips into what he hopes is a believable smile. “It’s no problem.”

A snort sounds from further into the room and he finds a familiar head of dark hair over the top of the couch facing away from him.

“No greeting for me, Sing?”

Sing turns his head, tilting it back to peer at him with narrow eyes. His brows are pulled down, but there’s a teasing lilt to his mouth. “Hey, softie.”

Eiji makes a small noise of discontent, but the corners of his mouth are lifting on instinct. Sing returns the almost-grin.

Eiji looks around the room, devoid completely of any trace of Ash Lynx, and the near-smile vanishes. Sing jerks his head to the side, eyes locked onto the far window overlooking the city, and nods. It’s surprising how much they understand each other.

Kong shares a look with Bones and the two have a whispered argument before the smaller man relents, pouting slightly. Kong clears his throat and jabs a thumb towards the door with a mumbled excuse; the two men leave quickly, sharing more whispers as they do. 

Eiji walks over to the cityscape window, a learned fear thrumming through him at the feeling of being exposed. 

“Ash would have loved this.”

Sing shifts behind him on the couch, sighing. “He would. The fact that we have this because of him and he’s not even here to appreciate it…”

Eiji grits his teeth, tucking his chin to his chest to fight the tears welling in his eyes. “Will you tell me about it?”

Sing is quiet for so long that Eiji digs the heels of his palms into his eyes and whirls around to glare at him. “Tell me!”

Sing’s face is scrunched into a tired sort of anger, brows dipping low across his eyes and mouth pulled into a fierce frown. “You don’t want to hear that, Eiji. Leave it be.”

Eiji starts forward, jerking. “Tell me!”

His voice, which was supposed to come out steely, shakes with emotion. 

Sing’s frown softens as his eyes slide to the side. He sighs in defeat, “Sit down, at least.”

Eiji considers standing to spite him, but his legs are already shaking so he stumbles forward the few feet necessary to sink into the couch opposite Sing’s.

Sing pulls up an ankle to rest on his other knee, slinging his arms over the back of the couch. He’s going for nonchalant, but it seems to Eiji more like he’s bracing himself. 

“We found him after we left the airport. Took a few hours, which.” Sing swallows. “Means he sat there and bled out for hours. I’d say I can’t imagine what would make him do that, but-“

Sing cuts himself off sharply, snapping his gaze up to Eiji with a worried expression. 

Eiji smiles bitterly, “My letter. You mentioned finding him with it.”

Sing’s eyes dart around the room and his frown turns into a scowl. “You’d better not blame yourself, idiot.”

“Sure.”

Sing turns his scowl up a notch but decides to continue. “Was just me at first, searching for Ash and knowing I’d probably find him there sulking. He was sitting at one of the tables, head resting on the table. I thought he was napping when I got close because he was lying there with his eyes closed, smiling slightly. Then I saw the blood staining his clothes. Too much. Checked his pulse and barely felt anything. Called in a few of my guys to help me drag him out.”

Eiji looks up when Sing stops, noticing the misty haze in his eyes.

“Had his blood all over my hands when the ambulance arrived. There was so much. Like his whole body had drained itself. I wanted to join him in the ambulance to drive to the hospital, but they refused.”

Eiji ducks his head, knowing exactly how that felt. They hadn’t let him in the ambulance after Ash fought Arthur, either. 

“He had no next of kin to call, so I had to call for days on end to get an answer, after bribing a few people, of course. Apparently he ended up flatlining within five minutes in the ambulance. Fucking stupid. All that fighting, everything he survived, and he let himself bleed out for hours.”

Eiji is trying to wrap his brain around the same idea. 

Sing stands up suddenly, leg swinging out swiftly to kick at the table beside his couch so hard a leg splinters off with a loud crack. He stands still after, shaking with the force of his angry breathing.

“Fucking Ash.”

Eiji finds that the display of anger creates a sort of calm inside him. If Sing were the stone cast into a river kicking up silt, Eiji was the aftermath of settling. 

“We should celebrate.”

Sing looks so stunned that he forgets to be angry. “What?”

Eiji balls his hands into fists on his knees, staring unblinking at them too will away the tears. “Ash would.” He swallows thickly. “He would appreciate a celebration. All the gangs together. Celebrating a new life without being under the thumb of Dino Golzine.” He finally looks up, meeting Sing’s wide-eyed gaze with blazing passion. “Let’s celebrate that fucker being dead.”

Sing’s grin forms slowly but ends up stretching ferally across his face. “Ash rubbed off on you, Japan boy.”

…

The celebration held in Ash’s memory is held in an old dive bar tucked away between a back alley and a strip of old shops. It’s shadowed as much as it is brightly lit by vibrant coloured neon lights. Reds and blues and deep purples, cut through with sharp pink and yellow here and there. 

The bar is cramped and the liquor is abundant, drowned in soft bass and raucous laughter. 

Eiji spots the sleek flash of dozens of guns and knives, slick gunmetal and silver oil. He blinks and sees Ash loading the barrel to an old pistol, spinning it to watch the brass bullets shine before clicking it into place. 

He tips back his glass, coughing slightly at the burn spreading down his throat. He’s tucked into a darker corner both away from the speakers and the brightly lit bar. 

“Why are you hiding? You're the one who suggested this.”

Eiji looks over the rim of his glass at Sing, smiling slightly. “Yeah. For Ash, not me.”

Sing huffs, sliding into the booth. “Since when were you such a downer?”

Eiji doesn’t answer because neither of them wants to hear the answer. 

They sit and sip their respective drinks, eyeing the commotion going on around them, Eiji with a fond smile, Sing with a bored expression.

Eiji finishes his drink within the hour, feeling warmer than before, almost floaty. The lights aren’t so garish anymore, more so brilliant to his fuzzy mind. 

Sing has a new drink in his hands, though Eiji never saw him get up, and glances over. 

“Your face is all flushed. You really can’t hold your liquor, can you?”

Eiji smiles softly, shrugging. “American alcohol is different from Japanese alcohol.”

Sing rolls his eyes, “Why don’t you go take a breather? Get some fresh air.”

Eiji cups his face in his hand for a second, watching the room with a fuzzy glow spreading in his stomach. When the room tilts without him moving, he decides that maybe Sing is right. 

“M’kay. I’m gonna.” He waves a hand at the exit in the back and Sing snorts into his drink. 

“Maybe take some water with you.”

Eiji sticks his tongue out at him, chuckling softly. The noise dies when he thinks of how he hasn’t done that since Ash. 

He stands quickly, suddenly needing the escape of the outside. He mumbled something to Sing about needing a minute and the other waves a hand in confirmation as he darts through the small clusters of gang members. 

He pushes into the heavy metal of the door harder than he needs to; it digs harshly into his shoulder before it yields.

The cool night air washes across his heated face like a soothing balm. His eyelids flutter close as he inhales deeply.

“You know, you shouldn’t be in a dark alley all alone when you’re so vulnerable.”

Eiji’s eyes fly open, a startled noise slipping out of his mouth. He takes an involuntary step backwards, reaching for the door just out of range.

The gun is trained on him so fast Eiji can’t even blink; it’s oddly long at the front like he’s never seen before.

“What do you want?” His voice is surprisingly level.

Shadows obscure the face that tilts to the side. “Not very smart, are you?”

Eiji frowns slightly, confused. “I don’t understand what you think I can get you, but you’re wrong.”

The person steps forward, slinking into the dim pool of amber light from the lamp on the wall and Eiji doesn’t recognise them at all.

“You’re invaluable for backing Ash Lynx into a corner.”

Eiji squeezes his eyes shut as his head spins, less from the alcohol and more from the sound of  _ his _ name.

“He’s-” He shakes his head, trying to raise his voice above a whisper. “He’s dead.”

A pale eyebrow arches high, mocking. “That’s what you think.”

He knows it’s a lie, knows this person is either highly misinformed or messing with him, but his heart gives a weak thump of joy in his chest.

“This isn’t funny.”

A pair of eyes, shadowed by a sweep of pale fringe, roll skyward. “You’re trying my patience, kid. Now come along with me nice and easy and this will all be much more painless.”

Eiji’s dealt with threats before, he’s been held at gunpoint and knifepoint, and yet his instinctual prey genes decide to pay a visit as he lunges for the door back to the bar. He just needs to open it a little or yell loud enough.

There’s a small click of the trigger being pulled, and Eiji can dimly hear the wet thud of impact as it burrows into his thigh, but the shot is deadly silent.

He’s brought to his knees, reeling, face in the dirt, without a single noise to alert the bar full of gang members. He gasps against the ground, fingers reaching to stem the flow of blood from his leg as the person walks closer.

“Do you see how this is going to go, Eiji Okumura?” A heavy boot lands on the back of his thigh, digging into the wound until he cries out sharply. “You don’t listen and you force my hand. Now. Are you going to be a good boy and come with me?”

Eiji has no answer, can neither accept nor deny the purred request. Apparently that translates to a yes, because he’s bodily hauled up, one arm slips under his knees and another around his back, and Eiji curses himself for how limply he hangs there.

He tries to stay conscious as he’s carried to a van parked around the corner, but when he’s dumped into the back the combination of nausea, pain, and intoxication whites out his thoughts so sharply he passes out.

…

“He’s a pretty little thing.”

“Yeah, and he’s also lynx bait, keep your hands to yourself.”

“Tch. He’d still be perfectly good bait after.”

There’s the sharp metallic click of a safety being turned off. “I said keep your hands to yourself.”

“Whatever! You get to shoot the bitch, and I can’t have a little fun? Makes no goddamn sense.”

“I told you he forced my hand. Besides, a little damage is sure to spur the wildcat’s bloodlust further.”

Eiji whines high in the back of his throat as his brain shifts into wakefulness and the conversation halts.

“Is the little kitten awake?”

Eiji blinks his eyes open, disoriented by the view of two pairs of feet and the rope binding his wrists. His gaze rises from the floor to his captors, one is the white-haired person from earlier. In the bright fluorescents, Eiji is met with keen gold eyes, not unlike a hawk’s.

“Good. Here’s the deal. We’re going to move you now that you’re awake and you’re going to come with us sweetly or I’ll put a matching bullet in your other leg, understood?”

Eiji glares up at the wickedly gold eyes for a second before he drops his gaze, nodding once.

The pair step forward, grabbing an arm each and hauling him up easily. A thick blindfold is wrapped around his eyes as he’s pulled through a maze-like building. 

The temperature has dropped by ten degrees by the time they reach their final destination, and even with the blindfold, Eiji can tell it’s much darker here.

Eiji is pushed forward so suddenly that he rolls across the cold stone of the floor a few feet before he comes to a stop, wheezing.

“Eiji?”

It’s soft, raspy, barely spoken above a whisper, but it thrums through his mind like a bomb, leaving him stumbling in the wake of the destruction.

His voice catches in his throat, frantic and clumsy. “No. No, no, no, no.”

He thrashes against the ropes around his wrists, needing to rip the blindfold off and see for himself. There’s no way he can trust his ears. He must be drunk.

Footsteps echo close to his ear and he’s being yanked up by his hair. A low growl sounds from across the room.

“Oh, looks like I made the big kitty angry.”

Eiji bucks against his hold, shoulders straining with the effort to break the rope. He can’t breathe, can’t think. He has to know.

“Let me see, fuck you, let me see!”

The blindfold is removed so quickly that even the dim lighting in the room is bright to his sensitive eyes. He shuts them for a moment before they open hastily, searching.

It takes less than a second. Across from him, chained in a pool of filtered light shines the most glorious sight Eiji’s ever seen. For a second, with his heartbeat stalled in his chest, lungs refusing to move, he thinks he’s landed himself in heaven.

The cry leaves him without thought, ripping loudly through the room like a roar. “Ash!”

Ash Lynx, proclaimed dead nine months and eighteen days ago, is alive and whole in front of him.

Eiji feels like he’s been frozen these past few months and someone has suddenly dumped him into boiling water. It burns, prickling across his skin with a searing heat. Yet, underneath it all is the feeling of thawing like he’s once again alive inside.

Ash flinches as his name echoes through the room, eyes shining with a fear Eiji is used to seeing when he’s involved.

He blinks and the fear blurs, wiped away by the hot tears stinging his eyes. He sobs, unashamed, unwilling to stop even if he had wanted to. Ash, somehow, someway, by some miracle, is alive.

He breaks into relieved pieces, sagging into the floor even as the fist in his hair tightens its hold.

“As sweet as this reunion is, it’s not what I’m here for.”

Eiji looks up, gaze fixated on Ash. If he can help it, he’ll never look away. Not after everything he’s been through.

The fingers in his hair tighten impossibly, yanking him out of his kneeling position until he’s on his feet again. He’s allowed to walk forward a few feet on his own until an impatient boot strikes out across his spine and he’s forced to close the distance between himself and Ash. He can’t even mind the treatment when it gets him closer.

Ash’s eyes burn, emerald fire, scorching through Eiji’s veins, but it doesn’t compare to the heat in the depths when he looks up. Hell hath no fury like Ash Lynx.

“Ash.” The name slips out unprompted.

Ash looks at him, angry and fearful, ever the part of a cornered animal.

“You died.”

Ash looks away, keeping his eyes trained on the threat slowly approaching. “I was supposed to.”

The gun swings through the air in small circles, acting the part of a toy as its owner flips it around on a finger.

“So, Ash, do you have a different answer to our question earlier?”

Green eyes flicker over to him for a split second before Ash’s face smooths into cold fury.

“Touch him and you’re dead.”

The gun bounces from one hand to another, followed by a yawn. “Boring. I've already shot him and kicked him around, yet here I am. Decidedly not dead.”

“I can change that for you.”

Eyelids dip slowly over predatory eyes, “Oh? I’m waiting.”

Eiji looks between the two, nervous. His hands twitch behind him with the emotion and he stills. He twitches his fingers again, curious when they bump against something small and hard. 

Slowly, so as not to draw attention to himself, he hikes up the back end of his sweater to reach into his back pocket, more than a little confused to find cold metal biting at his fingertips. It’s around three inches long and half an inch thick. The pocketknife is a familiar idea, but he’s never owned one, and can’t imagine how one ended up in his back pocket.

Eiji thinks back to the bar, a casual touch at his back from Sing. Had he known Eiji would need it? Had he assumed? Or did he just doubt Eiji’s ability to stay out of trouble? Whatever the reason, he’s grateful for the cold sting nestled in his palm.

Eiji begins working at the ropes as quickly and quietly as he can while Ash is distracting the room with tortuous threats.

The rope snaps on the last thread when the attention shifts back to him, despite Ash’s complaints. He can feel the rope unwind and pool at his feet, leaving him unbound with a pocket knife that has a three-inch blade to fight against assault rifles and silenced pistols.

The moment his hands are free he panics, oddly enough. What could he possibly do? He’s going to end up making things worse.

As always, it’s Ash that brings him down to earth. He looks over and is anchored by green. It doesn’t stop the wave of mirrored pain, but it does allow him to tuck it away for the time being.

Eiji coughs slightly until Ash looks over, waving the blade behind his back. Ash looks away so quickly he’s unsure if he even noticed. The slight shift in his features, calculating, says otherwise.

“Does he need to be here? I thought we were having fun together.”

Ash’s voice comes out in a purr, slow and seductive, but the hawk-eyed person only scoffs.

“It’s too late for your tricks, pretty boy. We were getting slightly concerned with how to break you when, lo and behold! Your one weakness.” The gun is trained on him for a second. “Comes crawling back into our territory like he has no sense of self-preservation.”

“He’s nothing.”

Eiji stills, turning to Ash with wide eyes, lip trembling despite himself. “Ash?”

Ash sighs, raising a pale brow when he turns to him.

Eiji sucks in a breath, biting his lip to stifle the sob that builds up with the coldness in his eyes.

“Oh? Then I should get rid of the waste.”

Eiji knows if he turned his head he’d be staring down the barrel of a gun, but he can’t look away from Ash. Memorising his features in these last few seconds, if they’re all he has.

“Hm. You’re serious, aren’t you?” Ash blinks slowly, unaffected. “And how about you, little kitten? What if Ash were the one on the line?”

Eiji looks over then, watching the gun swing to the side in slow motion. He doesn’t think before stepping in front of Ash, hands outstretched.

A laugh rings through the stone room, more amused than it should be. “There we go. I always figure things out, Ash Lynx, you can’t lie to me.”

Eiji is confused, limbs shaking with exhaustion as he notices his mistake. The knife in his freed hands blurs in front of him, shining.

He drops it without thought, watching it clatter to the floor. “Don’t hurt him.”

There’s a small hiss behind him, a hurried whisper of his name.

Gold eyes bore into him, liquid with humour that shouldn’t be present. “I won’t”

His finger twitches, the only warning that Eiji’s been shot. There’s no explosive noise, no ringing in his ears. There’s only the feeling of old scar tissue being shredded as metal digs through him. It all happens so fast that without the sound of a gunshot as explanation, Eiji can hardly understand that he’s been shot.

The blood begins to stain his shirt before he registers the pain and his knees hit the floor before he’s exhaled.

“Eiji!”

Eiji blinks, mind swimming in a fog. Is that Ash? He sounds hurt. Is he hurt?

He tries to look over, head lolling back to find Ash.

There’s a lot of noise then, like wild animals fighting and the earth cracking apart.

Eiji finally ends up shifting around to peer back and Ash and only finds empty space. Empty chains.

Surely not? Not even Ash Lynx…

Eiji’s thought tapers off, dissolving into white noise as the blood loss starts to set in. The room is echoing with gunfire, but it’s peaceful background noise.

Everything quiets with surprising speed, alarming. Eiji tries to move from where he’s splayed on the floor. The chill in the stones is slowly soaking into his spine, numbing the fire of the hole ripped through his body. Or perhaps it’s the warmth leaching out of him as he bleeds out.

“Eiji? Eiji, stay with me.”

“I told you my soul was always with you.” He mumbles.

Angry eyes take up his line of focus, immeasurably close to his own. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t want just your soul. That’s not enough.”

Eiji blinks up at him in confusion. “You?”

Ash’s mouth is moving, dropping words with notes of burning fervour, but they mix into incoherency, blending into the unsteady rhythm of his weakening heart. 

He smiles as his eyes flutter shut. Ash is safe.

…

The sun is sinking into the water, a golden haze shimmery over the water’s edge. It should be a beautiful sight, and yet Ash can only focus on the idea of Eiji, a mile away in the hospital. Such a bittersweet memory, how it mirrors the months passed.

“He’ll make it.”

Ash stirs, leaning away from the railing of the bridge to find Sing a foot away with his hands shoved in his pockets. They shake.

Ash doesn’t address it, unable to in this moment. “Don’t you have questions for me?”

Sing opens his mouth, curled at the edges in anger before he closes his mouth and looks away. His eyes are shining wetly.

“I mourned for you. I was covered in your blood when they took you away, and you were dead, and Eiji has been suffering this whole time, and-”

Sing stops, lashing out at the bridge’s rails with his foot. 

Ash turns his head, staring out over the river as the breeze runs through his hair like a warm hand.

“I wasn’t supposed to live.”

Sing stiffens in his peripheral. “What?”

Ash runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots before dropping his hand. “I stayed there for a reason! Why’d you have to interfere?”

Sing is looking at him like he doesn’t recognise him. “What are you talking about?”

Ash turns, eyes narrowed and mouth set. “I was done fighting. Your brother gave me an out from this hell and I was ready to accept it. I mi-”

He ducks his head, turning back to the open water to avoid the probing eyes.

“You what? Did you think for a second how it would affect everyone? Did you think about Eiji?”

“He’s all I thought about those few hours.”

Sing barks out a bitter laugh. “You’re selfish.”

“Haven’t I earned it? Am I not allowed to want out? I never went searching for death, but when it finally beckoned and I had nothing left, I was ready.”

Sing is shaking his head. “You had nothing left? I read the letter, Ash. I knew it by heart, looked at it for hours on end, trying to understand what it held that would make you sit there and give up. Eiji clearly loved you.”

Ash keeps his eyes on the water, unable to speak around the emotion in his chest.

Sing scoffs, kicking at the ground. “Whatever. Just stay away from him.”

_ Stay by my side. _

…

Eiji spends most of his trip in the hospital, healing from the shot in his leg and his side. The bullet had missed any major arteries or nerves, so he’d be able to walk fine, but that wasn’t what concerned him as the doctor explained.

He focused on the door and how it never opened to reveal the one person he wanted to see. At the end of his second week, a day before his scheduled return, Eiji set aside his hope. It seemed he would always have to do that when it came to Ash.

Sing, Bones, and Kong greeted him when he was discharged, clearly over-enthusiastic for his sake and to dispel the questions he wanted to ask.

They’re in the middle of saying something, Eiji feels bad for not paying attention when he interrupts.

“I’m sorry, but I think I’d like to take a walk? I need to clear my head.” I need to escape the emotion eating me alive.

Bones and Kong share an unsure look. “Uh…”

It’s Sing who speaks up, understanding. “Yeah, sure. Keep your phone on you, and take this.”

Sing shoves a pistol in the side of his jeans, ignoring his sputtered denial.

“If anyone tries anything, shoot them.”

Eiji’s face pales a bit, but he nods.

He watches them walk away for a moment before he turns, moving without a destination. The ground is a washed-out grey beneath his feet as he pushes forward.

It’s unsurprising, if painful, when he looks up and finds himself in front of New York’s public library. He pauses at the steps, contemplating. Can he handle being here?

His feet move before he’s reached a decision, and he only hesitates slightly, hand hovering over the handle, for a second before he pulls the door open.

The lingering chill in the air is swept away by the amber warmth of the library. 

Eiji realises as the door closes behind him like a death sentence that no, he couldn’t handle it. Ash’s ghost, which doesn’t even exist aside from inside his mind, sits at one of the front tables, head bent over a book.

Eiji sighs, closing his eyes to dispel the illusion. He looks up again, stunned when the glinting blond still shines across from him.

He steps forward, just once, fingers twitching at his side. Then all at once, he’s running forward, hurried and uncaring of the attendant admonishing him.

The distance closes shortly, until he’s standing behind Ash’s chair, panting. The stitches in his side throb and his leg threatens him with weak tremors.

“Come to Japan with me.”

Ash looks up, more startled than Eiji has ever seen, like he hadn’t heard the clumsy approach.

He’s clutching at thin papers like a lifeline. Eiji blinks down at the stained pages, wrinkled with dried tears and rusted at the edges with old fingerprints of blood. It’s the letter he had written for Ash all those months ago. It feels like a lifetime.

Ash opens his mouth to speak and Eiji sees the ‘no’ sitting on his tongue.

“Don’t answer for me. Answer for yourself. What do you want?”

Ash’s eyes drift away and a small smile betrays the corners of his mouth. “I want out, Eiji. But that’ll never happen. They won’t even let me die in peace.”

Eiji’s teeth grind together as his brows slam down. “I don’t care about them! I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”

“You don’t get to make that decision.”

“You promised you’d stay by my side.”

Ash looks up, eyes swirling with untouchable emotion. “You only get hurt around me. Go back to Japan and live a safe, quiet life.”

Eiji looks around, choosing his words carefully. “Alright. I will. As long as you join me.”

Ash shuts the book in front of him, slipping a hand through his hair. “What about the danger of it? You may not care about your own safety, but what about when my presence brings harm to Ibe? What of your mother? Your sister?”

Eiji will admit that makes him pause for a second. “I’ll move out. We’ll rent a tiny apartment in the city and be bored by the mundanity of normal life and I won’t even make you eat natto again.”

Ash frowns and Eiji thinks ‘prepare yourself.’ while dropping the hope he had once again held onto. 

“Alright.”

Eiji blinks, bending forward. “What?”

Ash looks up and Eiji is stunned to silence by the softness in his features. Childlike. Broken. 

“I said alright.”

Eiji stumbles forward with a half-formed sob, collapsing into Ash with his arms thrown around his neck, unaware and uncaring if he’s making a scene.

_ I’ll stay by your side. _

**Author's Note:**

> This work is honestly as much of a vent-piece as it is a coping mechanism. I struggle with the idea of death, especially when it comes to loved ones, so the beginning of this had much more of my soul in it than I ever intended  
> I hope this helps anyone dealing with the anime/manga, or just struggling in general  
> Feel free to cry about Banana Fish in the comments, I'll join you


End file.
